


An Act Of Kindness

by ink31



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Blood and Gore, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut (Possibly), F/M, Named Reader, life debts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink31/pseuds/ink31
Summary: Monsters remember every kindness done to them. They take it as debt that must be repaid and always two-fold. And they always remember...





	An Act Of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So after much thought I decided to make this into its own piece and not be part of 'Snapshots'. Please enjoy.

If Sans didn't pay too close attention to the faint sirens he could almost believe that the entire downtown district wasn't rioting. Nestled between several abandoned warehouses and a rambling park, the neighborhood was quiet and peaceful. And primarily human. 

 

He kept to the back streets, even climbing over a few fences (it disgusted him how it tired him) to stay out of the streetlights. Until he knew for certain it was best to simply assume he was still in enemy territory. It didn't help matters that both his phone and his headset had been destroyed; they might have been weak but his assailants had at least been smart. There would be no Papyrus using one of his shortcuts to sweep through and noiselessly take him somewhere safe.

 

When the barricades separating the protesters had failed—He **would** find out how that had happened!—the violence had become especially vicious. He had seen more than few monsters using the riot as the perfect cover for revenge against his fellow guardsmen. Even Alphys had been dealing with that snarling coal-beast Grillby kept as a pet; it was a wonder where the blasted thing had been hiding all day. Sans would bet his second-best scarf that the elemental would have the perfect alibi to protect himself from any charges.

 

As if to underscore the past hour pain flared from his sternum. It caught him just as he was jumping over a tall wooden fence and he took the landing hard. The impact made him hiss through clenched teeth. The flareup turning into what seemed almost like fire racing through his sternum and ribs. Falling to his knees he panted in an effort to get past the pain. While he didn't have lungs the action somewhat helped. Anger helped with the rest.

 

 _DAMN THEM!_ He pressed a hand to the wound. Blood and marrow seeped through the standard issue riot gear. Bullet-proof his sacrum. He was going to push for proper magic forged armor after this whether or not Alphys considered it a sign of weakness. The human police officers had jumped at the opportunity of installing magically forged plates in their Kevlar vests. There was weakness and then there was just being stupid.

 

Sans could admit he should have expected something like this to have happened. Two years might have come and gone since the so-called Ascension but monsters were good at carrying grudges. It was what had allowed them to survive Underground for so long. And while there were a few monsters who hated him, Sans would bet his best scarf it was the old Innkeeper of Snowdin behind the attack. His systematic destruction of her drug rings in Snowdin had been what had gotten him into the Royal Guard after all. And rumor had it that she still became rather twitchy (as in throwing-anything-sharp twitchy) if his name were mentioned in her presence. For now he would have to let it comfort him that not only had he foiled her pitiful assassination attempt but he had dusted his attackers. 

 

His SOUL quivered in rage at the memories of them. It wasn't enough that their Dust was being trampled by the screaming mobs. It wasn't enough that they had died knowing of their utter failure. Or that their last sight of life had been of Sans' bone attacks.

 

They hadn't died slowly enough. They had dared go up against him. HIM. THE TERRIFYING S A N S...

 

A few houses over a dog's high-pitched barking pulled him from his thoughts and he scowled at his lapse. _FOCUS ON THE SITUATION AT HAND._ Sans told himself and took in the tiny yard he had landed in. It was hardly enough to be considered a yard in terms of space but every available bit of land had been turned into some kind of raised bed filled with plants save for a small cement patio that had a few cheap plastic chairs. The back of the house was dark though with the dog barking he didn't trust it to stay that way. Looking around the area he found a few large bushes around a shed and he allowed himself a smile at his salvation.

 

Sans kept himself close to the ground and sprinted to the shed. _CHARA WILL LOVE THE IRONY._ He thought, using it to distract himself from the pain. Upon seeing the rusted lock holding the shed's door closed he snorted in disgust. _AT LEAST MY SHED HAD DECENT LOCKS._

 

A summoned bone shard made quick work of the lock. He did his best not to flinch at how loud the hiss of magic sounded in the night. As quickly as he had summoned the bone shard he released the magic holding together the shard. He refused to acknowledge how just that tiny expenditure of magic had left him drained. Opening the door was a trial as well; with his hands covered in blood he had to struggle not to leave any evidence on the door. Finally he managed to maneuver it open and slipped in. Once inside he let the door swing shut of it's own accord as his vision easily acclimated to the darkness.

 

Dirt. Mold. _Green things._ He warily eyed the hanging bundles of plants from the ceiling. It was a cramped little space that, by comparison, made his old shed Underground seem like a veritable mansion. The workbench was an odd assortment of the expected tools of gardening (he was impressed by the number and range of cutting shears) and the...not so expected. Did gardeners need sticks of incense, piles of colored rocks or what could only be star charts?

 

The last had him leaning closer, reading the detailed charts with a spark of interest. The spark died when drops of his blood fell onto the charts, adding morbid points to the listed constellations. Sans put it to his injuries that the shed and its contents were leaving him more than a little unsettled. Still it was better than dwelling on the itchy, dusty feeling he could feel on his bones.

 

He moved to the back of the shed and carefully sat down, wedging his back into the corner so he could face the door. Off his feet at last, Sans could feel a marrow-deep weariness settling in, pulling him down. In the quiet of the shed he imagined he could even hear the sounds of his own blood leaving him, soaking into the floor.

 

Papyrus would find him. His brother knew he would have been called to the City Hall to help keep the peace. And there had been dozens of news cameras for both human and monster news channels. As lazy as his brother was he had the same, almost unnerving instincts as their Father.

 

Too late he realized he was fading, falling into an inky blackness.

 

_BRO...ther..._

 

~*~*~

 

Movement. Light. Two faces staring down at him. Humans.

 

_NO!_

 

“...anny!”

 

He snarled, pulling himself up even as he felt his entire body protest, pain shooting up every limb and flaring around his rib cage. Two humans were huddled against the door of the shed, their arms around each other in mutual protection. At their feet lay the broken, twisted pieces of his riot gear, gloves, and shirt. It was the sight of his ruined scarf in the smaller one's hands however that had his magic flare with rage.

 

“THIEVES!”

 

One of his hands went to his wound and he choked on his next words at the rough texture of bandages under his phalanges. He blinked and risked a quick glance down to see that the majority of his rib cage had been covered in bandages. Even better was the sudden absence of that horrible itch.

 

“We're not thieves.” the smaller figure said, making him look back up as they scuttled to the small camp lantern he had knocked over in his fit. The light cast sharp shadows against _her_ features. Here a proud angle of a chin. There, a set of pursed lips and two bright flashing eyes of indeterminable color.

 

Setting it back on the ground, she turned to the second figure and Sans did as well, the light revealing the second to also be a woman though far older. Her face was a mass of wrinkles, dark skin, and hair held in a serviceable bun. Both women were dressed in faded flannel pajamas though the younger was also wearing a pair of gold hoops in her ears.

 

“SCAVENGERS THEN!” he said. _I WILL NOT FALL DOWN!_ He thought desperately. His bones might not itch any longer but he was still weak.

 

“Calm down we have nosy neighbors.” the older woman said as the younger guided her into a more comfortable position on the floor.

 

“HOW DARE..!”

 

“Unless you **want** to have our monster-hating neighbors find you like this?” she raised an eyebrow and with a start, Sans realized that her left eye was completely clouded over in blindness. Her right eye however made up for it with the strength of her piercing gaze. The Queen had that kind of gaze when she wasn't drowning in her grief.

 

“...getting you to a hospital now might be a bit dangerous.” she was saying.

 

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” he asked, swallowing his pride and lowering his voice though he pushed as much of his magic in his words as he dared. He was still a monster and he'd be damned to the Void if he let them forget it.

 

“I prefer not having to sweep out monster dust from my shed. I hear it gets everywhere.” He stared at her quirked lips and he found himself returning it with his own twisted grin. The old woman was nearly as practical as a monster.

 

“MONSTERS LIKE TO MAKE THEIR ENEMIES CURSE THEM EVEN IN DEATH.” He proudly stated.

 

“So I hear.”

 

“DO YOU EXPECT THANKS?”

 

“Not yet.” the older woman said. “You woke up before we could finish.” He turned to watch as the younger woman cleaned the mess he had made. It hadn't simply been the lantern he had knocked over but a bowl of water and several rags covered with what could only be his blood. She visibly flinched at his stare and looked away. When he casually turned his head as though to face the older woman he caught her staring again. Idly, he wondered what color her eyes were.

 

“I CAN SMELL THE USELESS HERBS YOU PUT IN THESE BANDAGES. THEY WON'T WORK.” He said. “WHAT ELSE COULD YOU HUMANS DO?” Well, that wasn't entirely true. Impossibly, he could feel their _intent_ in every scrap of bandage on him. The almost frantic desire to keep him alive, simply because he was another being. Even Chara, as determined as they could be hadn't had the ability of imbuing an item with their intent. He didn't know what scared him more; the lack of selfish intent or that they were humans.

 

“If that were really the case then I would be sweeping dust out of my shed right now.” The older woman said. She didn't seem upset by his tone, if anything she looked amused. “Intent is everything for magic. Monster and human. I know you can feel it.” And then she did the unthinkable in reaching out and tapping his leg with one hand as though he weren't to be treated with the utmost respect. It had him grinding his teeth before her words reached through his outrage.

 

“ARE YOU A **MAGE**?” He spat the last word out. Finding out that there were still mages had been a truly unpleasant surprise for the monsters. Thankfully though the pests seemed to be greatly reduced in both their abilities and numbers.

 

She huffed and shook her head. “As if a mage would live in this part of Ebott.”

 

Grudgingly, Sans couldn't help but agree with her. To the best of his knowledge, mages preferred dwelling in gated communities with silly gate houses and even sillier boundaries of 'protection'.

 

“You're part of the joint forces aren't you?” The younger asked, one of her hands strayed to his gear. She turned it over to the show the small delta rune pin smeared with blood.

 

“OF COURSE I AM. I AM THE TERRIFYINGLY MAGNIFICENT SANS SNOWDIN.” he said, forcing back 'CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD'. Combining the city police force and the Royal Guard had meant a restructuring of ranks for both humans and monsters. He had volunteered for the new force partially out of ambition and an honest desire to integrate monsters into all aspects of the city law enforcement. Seeing someone as highly ranked as Sans willingly accept a position of lower power had eased the way for others in the Royal Guard to join. It was annoying to obey orders (especially the stupid ones) but Sans was certain that he would prove his initial rise in the Royal Guard wasn't a fluke.

 

Both women looked less than impressed with his name; much to his irritation. The older one simply nodded and then swept a hand over herself. “My name is Penelope Fields and this is my granddaughter Lily. We're hedgewitches.”

 

The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “WHAT'S A HEDGEWITCH?”

 

“Us.” Lily said with a surprisingly cheeky grin. In the next instant it was gone, replaced with genuine concern. “We want to help you.”

 

Penelope snorted then. “And we're terrifyingly tired. The quicker we can finish healing you the quicker we can all get out of this drafty shed and get some sleep.”

 

He scoffed. As if he were going to dignify her by actually calling her by her real name with the way she treated him. Hardly any respect!

 

Both women started to move to either side of him, holding up their hands in clearly placating fashions as though he were some skittish dog. He wanted to lash out but Granny's right eye pierced straight to his SOUL. Entirely too much like the Queen's stare. To his horror, Sans heard his bones start to clack against each other as if he were a babybones. _PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!_

 

“Do you have friends? Someone we could contact?” Lilly asked softly. Her voice tugged him away from mindless fear.

 

He wanted Papyrus there suddenly in the worst of ways. “AS IF I WOULD TELL YOU.”

 

“We're just trying to help you know.” Lily said.

 

“HELP? DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH. YOU WANT SOMETHING.” Sans accused. Those bright eyes narrowed and her chin tilted up defiantly. It sent a thrill down his spine at the challenge.

 

Unfortunately whatever the humans had done in holding back the tide of pain failed in that moment. He gasped in pain, slumping over. She moved quickly as if to hold him up.

 

“STAY...away!” he snarled and cursed at realization that he didn't even have the strength to infuse his words anymore. He could feel his HoPe fluttering in time with each wave of pain. Thank the stars Papyrus couldn't see him now. Thank the stars Father wasn't...

 

His eye sockets burned and he scrubbed a hand over them quickly. Lily shifted, her hands touching his shoulders. He reacted without thinking; phalanges in a blur as he wrapped them around the column of her throat. Sans felt her flinch in surprise even as Granny cried out. He ignored her in preference for the way Lily's pulse fluttered just under the skin. It was such an alien sensation but it screamed at him that she was alive and at his mercy.

 

“I'm not helpless.” he hissed at her. The pain intensified and he made a decision he was already regretting. “You'll be dead before my dust hits the floor if you try anything stupid. Either of you.” he added with a quick glare at Granny. The old woman's lips were in a thin line and it pleased him to see her finally looking unsettled.

 

“It's okay sir, we want to help.” Lily said. She laid her hands over his sternum with exaggerated care.

 

Warmth flowed from her touch, searing through the bandages, through his bones, past the marrow, and down to touch what little magic ran through him. He gasped at the intrusion, gentle as it was. This felt like no healing magic he had ever experienced before. Inquisitive, kind and yet, inexperienced. For some reason he smelled cinnamon or at least felt as though he _should_ be smelling cinnamon. He dimly registered that Granny was kneeling at his other side and placing his hands on his sternum as well.

 

_Peppers to cinnamon. Backed by decades of experience and wisdom. It channeled bright, younger magic down through him even as it covered his own magic._

 

Instead of falling into blackness, this time it felt like falling into a soft light.

 

~*~*~

 

When Sans woke up, it was to the sight of a gray tabby staring down at him.

 

He jerked backwards and ended up tangling himself into the sheets as he fell off the bed. His cursing was (somewhat) muffled by the sheets and after a few moments he finally freed himself.

 

There was a curious trill from above and he saw the cat's head poke over the side of the bed. “STUPID BEAST.” he said without any real feeling. He made to stand to further scold the creature when he realized that beyond the the impact he felt no other pain. He stood up cautiously and stared down at himself. The bandages were still there, as were his pants. To his horror he realized that both his boots _and_ socks were missing.

 

He couldn't help the blush that warmed his skull. The young woman? The thought of her clean hands touching his socks, pulling them off even...his metatarsals curled subconsciously. It was the sort of thing one would find in one of the books that crazy fish, Undyne, would read. Those books almost always had a human male hold close some wind-swept female.

 

 _AND IT COULD HAVE BEEN THE OLD HAG._ He thought in a bid to keep from thinking any more on the subject. The odd little flutter he had been feeling turned into a lead weight and he nearly gagged at the idea.

 

He moved quickly after that, taking in the cheery quilts on the bed and the plastic bins peeking from an opened closet door. He found his gear piled neatly on a rocking chair, all of it scrubbed clean. Even his scarf had been cleaned, someone had even sewn the rips closed with tiny, neat stitches. He was flexing his phalanges in his gloves as he quietly opened the door and slipped through the hallway.

 

It was dark and quiet with three other doors, one of which was opened to show a bathroom. The other two doors were closed. The pictures hanging on the wall ranged from photographs of the two women (everyone with them smiling) to what were clearly academic degrees. The end of the hallway opened into living room with the kitchen off to the side, light spilling in from windows. There wasn't a sound beyond the ticking of a clock somewhere but he was only slightly surprised by Granny's presence in the recliner facing the hallway. She was sipping from a white tea cup and her right eye narrowed at him.

 

“Leaving then?” she asked quietly. “I'd recommend going out the back door. The Kellys leave early for work.”

 

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” he asked. It was easier to talk now, he didn't need to focus on infusing his magic into each word.

 

Granny smiled. “I imagine the riots were nasty. It'll only be a matter of time before there are more.”

 

He snorted. “CLEARLY. GET TO THE POINT GRANNY.”

 

“So familiar with me officer? Be quiet or you'll wake my dear granddaughter.” she tittered mockingly and hardly bated an eye at his hiss. He began walking to the sliding doors just behind her chair. “ ** _Protection._** ”

 

He jumped back at the sensation of her word. It was weak and lacked any of the instinctive power any self-respecting monster would have but the magic in it was there all the same. He stared at her in shock even as she turned her head to face him.

 

“I want protection. Protection for my household, my street. There are idiots living here but they've caused us no serious trouble. But we're close to the monsters and I imagine the empty lots aren't going to be empty for long. So I want protection and I want your word on that protection.”

 

“IS THAT ALL?” He asked, straightening himself out and “I AM PART OF THE JOINT F...”

 

She waved a hand. “I want _your_ protection.” she said and her words soothed the outrage of her interruption.

 

He crossed his arms and the sensation of the gaping holes in his riot gear had him recalling clean hands and the bandages underneath. Cinnamon. It would be a little thing to change his patrol routes. There were worse ways of claiming a debt as large as they one they held.

 

“FINE.”

 

She smiled, a cheery grin that reminded him of Lily's in that moment. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you in the near future then officer.”

 

He walked by her, opening the sliding door to the back yard with an angry mutter about “old hags” and would have left had it not been for her calling his name. Turning back to her chair he glared at the fact that she hadn't moved to look at him but was still staring to the hallway.

 

“Please keep in mind that it was _two_ people who saved your life. Not one. My granddaughter won't claim her price though. That will be up to you I think.”

 

Her dry laughter followed after him and he swore he could still hear it by the time he had made it to police headquarters.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me at my tumblr! I keep all my Undertale-related art, drabbles, and headcanons there. 
> 
> https://inkblots31.tumblr.com/


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